


Changing Times

by Attenia



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 13:55:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3070634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Attenia/pseuds/Attenia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Times are changing. In the wake of Uther's death, Merlin tries to cheer Arthur up, starting along a path that neither of them would have expected. Dare either of them hope that their deepest desires and dreams could come true?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Changing Times

“Merlin!”  
Merlin looked up to see a very angry Arthur stalking towards him, his hands full of armour. Merlin cringed internally; he knew why the king was so annoyed.  
“I thought I told you to polish my armour!” Arthur said, dumping the clanging pile of metal at Merlin's feet.  
“Um, yes, well you see, the thing is – ” Merlin stuttered.  
“I don’t care, just get it done, Merlin,” Arthur said, striding away.  
Merlin bit his lip as he gathered up the armour. It’s not Arthur's fault; there’s no way Arthur could have known why Merlin didn’t polish his armour last night. Arthur and Uther may have disagreed on many counts, but Arthur loved his father and wasn’t coping with his death well. Nothing Merlin said seemed to make any difference – Arthur was miserable. Merlin had even gone to Gwen and Morgana for help, but they seemed even more at a loss than he was.  
“Only you can cheer him up, Merlin,” Morgana had said, smiling slyly as though she was in on some secret.   
Merlin narrowed his eyes. Morgana didn’t know about his magic… but sometimes he wondered.  
So Merlin had done what any good servant would have done – spent the night looking up spells, hoping to find something that would help ease Arthur's grief. It had been just past dawn when Merlin crept into Arthur's chambers and whispered the spell. There was no time for sleep or polishing after that, but it was worth it – Arthur seemed more himself this morning, which was good, no matter what it meant for Merlin.  
Merlin could hardly tell him what he’d been doing. Uther may be gone, but magic was still banned. He sighed, weighed down by the armour and his lack of sleep and started to polish. As he worked, he watched Arthur train with his knights. This usually never failed to cheer him up – watching Arthur do just about anything would cheer him up – but today it only made him more downcast.   
All he wanted was for Arthur to know how much Merlin did for him, how much he… Merlin cut off that thought before it could even get started. He shook his head viciously, trying to focus on the armour and get himself under control before Arthur came back and asked what was wrong.  
Lancelot – sweating from his round of being beaten up by Arthur (he really did seem in a foul mood today, but Merlin supposed that was better than him being miserable), flopped down by Merlin.  
“Hey,” Merlin said, trying to put some enthusiasm into his voice.   
“What’s wrong?” Lancelot asked. Clearly, Merlin hadn’t been as convincing as he’d thought.  
“I’m fine.”  
“No you’re not. Gwen's worried about you, she said I need to talk to you.”  
“Really, I’m ok.”  
Lancelot stared intently at Merlin. “Is this about Arthur?”  
Merlin tensed. “What do you mean?”  
“It’s just that when you’re down, it’s usually something to do with Arthur.”  
Merlin slumped back down. “It’s nothing.”  
“Merlin, he’s mad at everyone,” Lancelot said gently. “He’s still trying to deal with his father’s death. He feels responsible. Don’t take it personally.”  
“I’m not,” Merlin said, but apparently he wasn’t convincing enough, as Lancelot put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “We all know he’s your best friend, Merlin, and he feels the same way about you. Just give it time; Arthur will be back to normal soon enough.”  
“I’ve got to go,” Merlin said, jumping up and practically fleeing the training grounds.   
He managed to make it back into the castle before the tears spilled from his eyes. We all know he’s your best friend, Merlin, and he feels the same way about you. Merlin pressed himself into the corner where he was hiding, fighting not to make any noise. Of course, he should be honoured that Arthur viewed him as a best friend. Who ever dreams of being best friends with a king? Merlin had way more than he deserved…  
Merlin's dreams about Arthur, though, were quite different.  
He sat there, trying to control himself, watching the sun carefully. When Arthur was finished with training, he’d want a bath. Merlin wondered if he should get some of the oils Arthur sometimes liked added to his bath. Arthur may not appreciate it in the mood he’s in, but doing something nice for Arthur would cheer Merlin up, if nothing else.   
Merlin hurried back to Gaius’ quarters to get the necessary before Arthur got back from training.  
By the time Arthur was back, Merlin had a hot, sweet smelling bath ready for him. Arthur was still in a foul mood, so Merlin stood quietly by the wall. “I hope that armour’s polished,” Arthur said, gesturing for Merlin to come and help him undress. “Yes, sire,” Merlin lied, telling himself that he’ll do it while Arthur is bathing.   
Merlin turned away as Arthur got into his bath, not sure his heart could take much more today.   
“Well get going, you idiot!” Arthur barked from behind him. “Do I have to tell you to do everything myself? You have chores to do – go!”  
Merlin hurried out without so much as a glance backwards, fighting tears again. He tried to get a grip on himself. He couldn’t go to pieces like this every time Arthur treated him badly. True, in the months before his father died, and even afterwards when Arthur was wracked with grief, Arthur had been strangely nice to Merlin. Just because he’d gone back to his old ways didn’t give Merlin an excuse to fall apart, though.  
“You’re being silly,” he told himself firmly. He’d helped Arthur plenty of times before for no credit. It’s just the drastic change in Arthur's mood that had caught him off guard. The fact that he had thought Arthur had started to care for him has nothing to do with…  
“Stop it,” he muttered angrily to himself. “Best friends, Merlin, that’s what you are to Arthur, and you’d better get a grip on yourself if you want to stay his friend, or even his servant.”

Back in his chambers, Arthur's head banged back against the side of his tub. “Brilliant, Arthur, that’s helpful,” he growled, even angrier now. It wasn’t Merlin's fault that Arthur was too much of a coward to talk to him, and Arthur had no right to mistreat him like that.  
Arthur had gotten over the fact that Merlin was keeping his magic from him years ago. He had accepted Merlin's visits to the dragon, his all too obvious use of magic to get out of his chores, his more valid use of magic to save Camelot, his lies, his deceits, and any number of other things.   
He had accepted Merlin's tentative friendship, even though it killed him to get even closer to Merlin, some of Merlin was better than none, and Arthur took the friendship he offered willingly.  
There was no reason that Arthur should have overreacted this morning. He’d pretended to be asleep when Merlin came in, not willing to admit that he wasn’t sleeping properly. At Merlin's whispered spell, a great weight seemed to lift off his shoulders, a weight that he had been carrying around since his father’s death.  
This should have made Arthur happy, but it in fact only made him more miserable. It wasn’t Merlin's fault that Arthur was in love with him and too scared to tell him. It wasn’t Merlin's fault that every kind thing he did for Arthur sent a shard of ice through Arthur's heart, reinforcing that his was all of Merlin he would ever have.  
Arthur didn’t want to lose their friendship for anything, and he knew that if he told Merlin, Merlin would leave his services at once. Or worse, allow it, trying to make Arthur happy, letting his friend take advantage of him without protesting.   
Yes, that would be a very Merlin thing to do, Arthur thought grimly. Arthur wouldn’t do it, no matter how much he may want to. His anger was at the stupid circumstances, not at Merlin, but he somehow couldn’t help snapping at him. Which of course just made him feel worse.   
He dragged himself out of his bath, knowing that Merlin would comment if he just sat there moping until the water was cold. He got dressed alone, grateful for once at Merlin's incompetence. He couldn’t stand the feeling of Merlin's hands on him right now. He’d surely do something he’d regret – like yell at him, or kiss him.  
Arthur briefly considered talking to Morgana. After all, he couldn’t be the only person in history to have been in love with someone they could never have, and Morgana was good with that kind of thing. He cringed at the idea; he could just hear her teasing voice now. No, Morgana was not an option.   
If he didn’t talk to someone, though, he felt like he’d explode.  
“Get a grip,” he said firmly to himself. “If you want to stay Merlin's friend, you had better stop treating him like that.”  
He’d have to find some way to make it up to Merlin, do something nice for him. Hmm, he’d have to think about what to do…

Merlin hastily quieted his sniffles when he heard footsteps coming towards him. He pressed himself into the wall, briefly considering using an invisibility spell, but it was too late – he’d been spotted.   
“Ah, Merlin, Arthur's looking for you,” Leon said.   
“On my way,” Merlin muttered, getting up.  
“Merlin, are you alright?”  
“Fine,” he said, pulling away from Leon's concerned hand and practically running down the hall. He wiped his eyes, hoping they weren’t too red. Arthur probably wanted lunch. Merlin considered going straight to the kitchens, avoiding Arthur for a few more minutes, but he knew he’d have to face him eventually.   
He opened the door of Arthur's chamber hesitantly, to find the king dressed and staring out of the window.   
“Merlin,” he said, turning at the sound of the door.  
Arthur could see at once that Merlin had been crying and remorse filled him. He opened his mouth to apologise, but stopped himself. If he opened his mouth and started talking about his feelings to Merlin, he knew what would happen.  
“I wish to ride,” he said, hoping his voice didn’t sound too rehearsed. “I haven’t been out in ages and the palace is stifling. I will be taking lunch in the forest. Pack some food and prepare our horses.”  
“Just the two horses?”  
“Yes,” Arthur said, biting his tongue before he could snap, his irrational anger flaring again.  
Merlin didn’t close the door, but came up to Arthur. “You never did learn to dress yourself, did you, you prat?” he murmured, tugging at Arthur's shirt, which was tucked up at his back.   
Arthur closed his eyes and leaned into the touch despite himself. It would be so easy just to turn around and…  
Merlin's hands disappeared, for which Arthur was grateful.   
Merlin hurried out to get stuff for the picnic. He knew that his eyes must be red – he’d seen the question in Arthur's eyes, but thankfully Arthur didn’t say anything. The last thing Merlin needed was to start crying in front of Arthur; Arthur would force him to tell him what was wrong. Merlin couldn’t refuse Arthur anything, and once he told him, that would be the end of any friendship with Arthur. He would be dismissed, maybe even banned from Camelot…  
He hurried to the kitchens, already thinking of what he would ask for, going over Arthur's favourites in his head. He could never show his love for Arthur in any other way, so he would put everything into his service of his king. It was all he could do, all he’d ever be able to do.  
He tried not to think about the feel of Arthur's smooth, muscled back against his fingers. He’d fixed the shirt as quickly as he could, but the briefness of the touch didn’t stop Merlin's heart from breaking. Again. Stupid prat, I should have let him walk around like that all day, Merlin thought angrily. It’s as though Arthur was trying to torture him, flaunting what he could never have. Only Arthur would never do that, and Merlin was really only angry with himself.   
Of all people, why did he have to fall in love with Arthur Pendragon? 

Arthur got onto his horse as quickly as possible – if he could ride in front of Merlin, he wouldn’t have to look at him, wouldn’t be tortured by his pale skin gleaming in the sun, his slim hips moving with the horse…  
“Ow!”  
Arthur jerked around to see Merlin on the ground. Apparently, he hadn’t fastened his girth properly and had fallen to the ground as soon as he tried to mount. Arthur was about to laugh and call him an idiot, but Merlin's face was screwed up with pain and he was holding his ankle.  
“Merlin?” Arthur slipped down from his horse and knelt down beside his servant. “Here, let me see.”  
“No, I’m fine,” Merlin said, trying to pull his ankle out of the king’s grasp. How much more could he take in one day? Dreaming of Arthur touching him every second, feeling it rip a hole in his heart every time he did, because he knew Arthur would never feel the same way as he did about it…  
“Don’t be an idiot,” Arthur said, though his voice was fond rather than angry.  
His hands were gentle as they probed the red skin. “Sprained,” he said, shortly. “Come on, I’ll help you up.”  
“No, really, I can – ” Merlin's stammers were caught short when Arthur's hands closed around his waist. Without giving himself permission to, Merlin sagged into the touch, his back pressing against Arthur's chest. He could feel Arthur’s heartbeat through his thin shirt.  
“Merlin, are you alright? Do you need to lie down?” Arthur sounded worried; maybe he thought Merlin was collapsing. Merlin briefly considered really collapsing – maybe Arthur would carry him to Gaius’ chambers… but Merlin couldn’t take any more of this, his heart could only withstand being broken so many times.  
“No, I’m fine,” he said, pushing himself up. Arthur lifted him onto the horse easily, and turned away to hide his flushed face and trembling fingers. “Let’s go,” he said, breaking into a brisk trot.  
They didn’t ride far – just out of sight of the palace. Arthur could tell that Merlin's ankle was bothering him and wanted to get him sitting down. “Stay there,” he said sternly to Merlin as he unpacked the picnic stuff. Merlin watched with a curious expression on his face, one Arthur couldn’t interpret. Finally, he turned to help Merlin off his horse, but Merlin had already staggered off and hopped to the blanket, lowering himself awkwardly to the ground.  
They ate in silence, which was strange in itself. Merlin would usually never shut up. Arthur scrutinized his face. He was in pain, even though he wasn’t complaining. Arthur bit his lip, wishing his stupid servant would just heal in injury already so Arthur could breathe properly again.   
Merlin picked at his food and finally Arthur couldn’t stand it anymore. “Just heal it already, Merlin!” he burst out.  
“You want me to go back to Gaius?”  
“No, you idiot, I want you to fix your stupid ankle.”  
“I don’t understand…”  
“Merlin, I don’t like seeing you in pain!” Arthur snapped, furious that Merlin was forcing him to say it. He could feel his cheeks reddening. “Just use magic and heal it so I can stop worrying, alright?”  
A choking sound made him look up to see Merlin spluttering and coughing over the water skin.  
“What?” he gasped in between coughs.  
Despite himself, Arthur laughed. “You didn’t really think I didn’t know, did you? Honestly Merlin, you are the worst secret keeper in the history of the world.”  
Merlin stared at Arthur as though he’d just grown an extra head. “Get on with it, then,” Arthur said, gesturing for Merlin to continue.  
“Why, though? You’ve had a million times when you could have asked me to use magic… why now?”  
Arthur felt his face going red again. I’ve already told you, I – just do it, Merlin, I’m not going to tell you again!”  
Merlin looked at Arthur with those unbearably blue eyes for another long second before turning his gaze to his ankle and muttering something in a language Arthur didn’t know. Light enveloped his ankle for second before his face cleared of all pain and he smiled.  
“There, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” Arthur said, smiling in response.   
“How long have you known?” Merlin asked quietly.   
“Since about a month after you started in my service. You really aren’t very subtle, you know.”  
“But – but why didn’t you turn me in to Uther?”  
“You really are an idiot, aren’t you, Merlin? In case you didn’t notice, my father wasn’t exactly tolerant of magic. He would have had you killed.”  
Merlin looked away, tears filling his eyes. It should have made him overjoyed, knowing how Arthur had protected his secret all these years… but it really only made him sad. Arthur already knew everything Merlin did for him… As he fought tears, Merlin realised that all this time, some stupid part of him had been hoping, hoping that once Arthur saw him as he truly was, he would feel different. Now he knew that Arthur would never feel any differently for him. If saving Camelot multiple times wasn’t going to change his mind, nothing would.  
“Merlin?” Arthur's voice sounded oddly vulnerable. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, I know you’ve had to hide for so much longer… I just thought you didn’t want me to know.”  
The concern in Arthur's voice was what did it for Merlin. He leapt up, not even sure what he was about to do. He just knew he couldn’t be around Arthur any longer. It was too painful.  
Before he could run, Arthur's hand was on his arm, pulling him back. He grabbed Merlin's shoulders, forcing him to look at him.   
“What’s wrong?” Arthur demanded, but his eyes were still oddly vulnerable.   
“Let me go, Arthur, please,” Merlin begged, unable to hide the tears from Arthur any longer. Arthur's hands on him melted his will to jelly and he had to get away before he messed everything up.  
“No,” Arthur said, pressing Merlin's back against the nearest tree when he tried to twist away. “Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”  
Merlin shook his head frantically, trying not to meet Arthur's gaze.  
All of Arthur's previous irritation had vanished, leaving nothing but worry for Merlin. What could be upsetting him so much? Had Arthur really been that horrible to him? Or was it something else? He tried to calm his pulse and control the impulse to move closer to Merlin.   
“You are going to tell me what’s wrong,” he said sternly. “We’re not leaving until you do.”  
He steered Merlin back to the picnic blanket and pushed him gently down. He sat down, glaring at his servant. “Tell me.”  
Merlin just shook his head.   
“Fine. It’s to be a test of wills then, is it? The knights know I’m with you, they know we’re fine – they won’t send anyone looking for us. We’ll stay here as long as it takes, even if it takes weeks.”  
Merlin is distracted out of his sadness by Arthur's words. “What do you mean they know you’re with me so they won’t send anyone looking?”  
“Merlin, they know about you, too,” Arthur said patiently.   
Merlin would have liked to say a few words about that, but he was distracted by the rest of what Arthur said. “We can’t stay here overnight – it’s winter, Arthur – we’ll freeze!”  
“You’d better get going, then – conjure us a tent or something.”  
Muttering angrily, Merlin waved his hands and a small tent appeared out of nowhere.   
“You’ll have to tell me eventually,” Arthur said, poking Merlin inside before crawling in after him.  
Merlin just shook his head stubbornly.  
Arthur sighed. Whatever was bothering Merlin, he would get it out of him. He could be a confidant for his friend, if nothing else.

Arthur woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of chattering teeth. He glanced over at Merlin's thin form and frowned, annoyed. Merlin had somehow managed to cover Arthur in all of his blankets, leaving none for himself. Arthur grabbed the thick pieces of fabric and threw them over Merlin, too.  
Merlin continued to shiver in his sleep and Arthur slowly moved closer to him. He’s cold, I need to warm him up or he could get sick, Arthur justified to himself. It had nothing to do with the feel of Merlin's back against his chest, the way he moved closer to Arthur in his sleep, not aware he was doing it.  
Arthur tried to resist, but what was the point? Merlin was asleep, and this was the closest Arthur was ever likely to get to him. Being careful not to wake him up, Arthur let his hand trail down the side of his face, brushing over the smooth skin.   
“I love you, Merlin,” he whispered in a broken voice.

Merlin was woken by a soft touch on his face. It took him all of two seconds to realise it was Arthur. Too afraid to move, he stayed still with his eyes shut.   
“I love you, Merlin.”  
The whisper was so soft that Merlin was sure he was imagining it, sure his mind was conjuring up the words he so desperately wanted to hear.   
But then he felt something warm and wet drip onto his cheek – a tear. “So much,” Arthur murmured. His hands skimmed down Merlin's sides and Merlin couldn’t resist – he didn’t think he could pretend to be asleep for much longer, his heart was beating way too fast.   
He turned over in Arthur's arms. Arthur tensed and gasped, realising his mistake. Merlin was awake and now he’d ruined everything.   
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, glad it was too dark in the tent for Merlin to see his bright red face. “I’m sorry, Merlin, just go back to sleep, ignore me, pretend I didn’t say anything. Please, Merlin, you don’t have to do anything, we can just go back to things like normal…”  
“Arthur…”  
But Arthur kept babbling. “I don’t expect anything from you Merlin, you don’t need to – please – please don’t leave me.”  
The last words were said with such sadness and desperation that Merlin felt as if his heart was breaking for Arthur.   
“Arthur, stop, I’m not going to leave you,” he said.   
Arthur stopped talking abruptly. “You’re not?”  
“No, you prat. Is that why you didn’t tell me? You thought I’d leave?”  
Arthur nodded hesitantly, not sure why Merlin was taking this so well. He’d just done the thing he swore he’d never do, and Merlin was still there with him.  
A sharp blow to the head brought him out of his dazed thoughts. “I deserve that,” he muttered, feeling better at getting a more expected response.  
“I’d say, you clotpole! Do you have any idea what I’ve been through? Years, Arthur, years! You didn’t think you could have said something just a little earlier? I’ve been dying inside for years, and…”  
Arthur listened to Merlin rant, trying to figure out what he was going on about. Merlin was justifiably mad, but Arthur didn’t understand his words from after Merlin hit him. He tried to take his hands off Merlin, not wanting to make him even angrier, but Merlin grabbed him, not allowing him to move.   
His anger seemed to dissipate all at once, his head falling onto Arthur's shoulder. “I love you, too,” he said softly.   
Arthur's breath caught at Merlin's words. “You… you love me too?”  
“Of course I do, you dollophead! What did you think I was yelling – ?”  
Arthur decided he’d had enough of Merlin's talking and silenced him with a kiss.  
Merlin made a soft little noise in the back of his throat, then melted into the kiss. His body pressed into Arthur's, making Arthur groan. His hands slid all over Merlin, wanting to touch all of him. Merlin was whimpering, tugging at Arthur, trying to bring him even closer.   
Arthur sat up and put one leg on either side of Merlin, kneeling above him. He leant down and pulled off Merlin's shirt, gasping as he hands brush across the smooth expanse of skin. Merlin cried out aloud when Arthur's exploring fingers touched his nipple and he pressed into the contact. Arthur's mouth was forceful and demanding, and Merlin's opened willingly for him.   
Blood was pounding in Arthur's ears and he knew that if he didn’t stop now, he wouldn’t be able to. He tried to sit up, but Merlin grabbed him, pressing himself into Arthur, moaning and whimpering when Arthur tried to pull away.  
“What’s wrong?” Merlin asked, his voice short and out of breath.   
“I don’t want to rush you,” Arthur said through gritted teeth, acutely aware of the feeling of Merlin beneath him.   
Merlin reached up for him again, but Arthur pulled further away. “Your first time shouldn’t be rushed, Merlin,” he said sternly. “I don’t want you doing something you’ll regret. You need to think this through.”  
“This is all I’ve been thinking about for the past three years,” Merlin breathed, his eyes dark pools in the faint light coming in through the entrance of the tent. “Please, Arthur, I want you. I need you now.”  
Arthur tried to resist, but then Merlin's hands were sliding up his chest and his resolve dissolved into nothing. It’s not that he hadn’t imagined this scene a thousand times before, but he couldn’t bear the thought that he’d inadvertently pressure Merlin into doing something he’d regret later.  
But Merlin was whimpering now and Arthur was only a man, after all, and Merlin's fervent pleas in his ear couldn’t be ignored…  
His hands surged back to Merlin's body and Merlin arched upwards, seeking his mouth. Arthur obliged him, groaning when their tongues intertwined. Merlin ran his hands through Arthur's hair, trapping him there, and Arthur was very happy to be trapped for as long as Merlin wanted.  
Arthur's breeches were so tight it was almost painful, but he revelled in it, giving Merlin everything, all his love, everything that had been building up for all these years. Merlin's hands tried to hold onto him as he moved his mouth away, but once Arthur's mouth was latched onto Merlin's left nipple, Merlin forgot all about trying to hold him in place. He forgot about everything except Arthur and the magical things Arthur was doing with his body. He writhed under Arthur's touch, arching into it.   
Arthur's mouth moved downwards and now Merlin was sobbing in ecstasy. Arthur quickly pulled Merlin's breeches off, his own clothes following soon after. “Arthur,” Merlin gasped, his back arching, his cheeks flushed.   
Arthur moved further down to find Merlin erect and trembling. His hands fluttered playfully around the base of Merlin's manhood and Merlin gasped louder yet.   
“Please, Arthur, please…”  
Arthur laughed and moved forward.   
When he took Merlin fully into his mouth, Merlin yelled loudly, jerking upwards. Arthur smiled around him, gently sucking and licking. Merlin was writhing around like an eel, making it difficult for Arthur to keep a hold of him, but Arthur couldn’t bring himself to tell Merlin to keep still. To see Merlin reacting like this was like watching all of his dreams come true at once. His own manhood throbbed in response and Arthur groaned. The vibrations went through Merlin, who whimpered desperately.   
Arthur pulled off him with a slick pop. Merlin was gasping and Arthur was afraid he might faint, his breathing was so fast. He moved back up to Merlin's mouth and kissed him. Merlin's face was flushed and he pushed himself up to Arthur, taking him by surprise when his hand fastened on one of Arthur's hard nipples. Arthur stiffened, his mouth hard on Merlin's. “Merlin, oh, keep doing that,” he said in between kisses, and Merlin obeyed him. Arthur's body was on fire and his thoughts were full of Merlin, how much he loved him, how much he needed him.   
Their bodies pressed together, moving and rubbing, and finally Arthur couldn’t take it anymore. “Merlin, are you sure about this?” he asked.  
In answer, Merlin held up a vial of oil that he surely conjured up, because Arthur was sure it wasn’t there before. Arthur looked at Merlin, but saw nothing but desire and trust in his eyes. Arthur coated his fingers and fastened his mouth over Merlin's nipple again. Merlin was panting loudly and his tempo only increased when Arthur's fingers gently worked their way inside him, opening him up.  
“Are you ok?” Arthur asked.   
“Yes,” Merlin breathed, pressing himself upwards as Arthur sucked his nipple. Arthur began to move his fingers gently and Merlin jerked and whimpered as fire ran through him. “Arthur!” he shouted.   
Arthur knew that Merlin was ready. He pulled his fingers out, smiling when Merlin whimpered at the loss of contact, and positioned himself above Merlin.   
“Are you – ?”  
“Do it Arthur!” Merlin practically screamed, every part of his body reaching out towards Arthur. Needing no encouragement, not sure he could have resisted much longer anyway, Arthur entered Merlin's tight hole.   
A hoarse shout got out of his mouth and he forced himself to be slow, not wanting to hurt Merlin. Merlin was kissing him desperately. “It’s fine,” he whispered in Arthur's ear. Arthur began to move slowly and Merlin groaned, with pleasure as well as pain. His hands splayed over Arthur's back and he arched himself upwards, aching for more.   
Arthur felt his own climax building and he couldn’t stop himself from moving faster, but Merlin was moaning as the waves of pleasure overwhelmed any pain there was at the beginning. His legs came up around Arthur, forcing him deeper. Arthur's head was spinning as he thrusted into Merlin, over and over with increasing pace. Their groans and shouts mingled together, creating a perfect harmony.   
Merlin screamed as Arthur brushed a spot that sends violent shivers of pleasure all the way through him and Arthur went faster still, hitting the spot every time. Merlin's cries got shriller with every stroke and Arthur wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take.   
He reached down to take Merlin's hard manhood into his hand, still moving frantically in and out of Merlin. As Arthur squeezed the throbbing member, Merlin gave one final yell as he tensed around Arthur and came all over his chest. The pressure from Merlin was too much for Arthur and he was coming too, sobbing Merlin's name as waves of ecstasy flowed through him, too much to bear, the pleasure more intense than anything he’d ever imagined or experienced.  
Arthur collapsed on top of Merlin, gasping louder than he ever has in his life. He remembered to hold himself up on his elbows so that he didn’t crush Merlin, but Merlin's hands were around his back, pulling him closer so that their chests were touching.   
Finally, Arthur pulled out of Merlin and flopped down beside him. Merlin's arm came around him, clearly not wanting to stop touching just yet. Arthur didn’t think he’d ever get enough of touching Merlin, not if they lived a hundred years…   
Merlin turned over, pressing his back into Arthur like a child and Arthur's arms closed around him, holding him close.   
“I love you,” Arthur whispered in his ear, like Merlin had dreamed of him doing for so many years.   
“I love you,” he whispered back. 

When the king and his servant got back from their trip to the forest, the change in them was dramatic. No one had ever seen the king happier, nor his servant in better spirits. It took a while for them to realise why – it may have been the fact that Merlin moved into Arthur's chambers, or the sounds that came out of them at night, or the fact that Arthur lifted the ban on magic and Merlin was suddenly using magic in front of the king as though there never was any secret.   
Maybe it was Morgana, the traitor – Arthur didn’t believe her when she told him (in a smug voice), that she knew all along, but he couldn’t quite shake the idea that he was wrong about that. The fact was that even if Morgana had told the entire castle, Arthur wouldn’t have minded.   
He doubted whether anything would ever bother him again. After all, what could possibly hurt him when he had his sorcerer, his Merlin at his side?   
Merlin snuggled closer to Arthur, still not able to get enough of him, no matter how much they touched. “I love you,” Merlin murmured in that sleepy, content voice of his.   
“I love you, Merlin. Forever.”

The End


End file.
